I'm not really even sure where I've been today and I think tomorrow is going to be even more confusing. If I look at the schedule, it says that I started the day in Utsunomiya, took a shinkansen for about an hour, transferred in Tokyo and took another shinkansen for another hour and a half, arrived in Nagoya, took a bus for about an hour, played a sound check and a concert in a small town called Tajimi, and then took a bus for another hour back to Nagoya which is where I think I am right now. I know that I'm on the 11th floor of a very nice hotel somewhere eating marrons which are what the Japanese call chestnuts.
I'd more likely anchor my day to the long naps that I took on the trains, seeing an ocean and some mountains speed by between winks, the new paisley shirt of our section leader who seems to have a strong propensity for paisley in general (and embroidered jeans and a zebra patterned cello case).
I might remember the marron okashi (Japanese sweet) that a friendly Japanese orchestra member shared with me in the dressing room, or the red bean paste sweets set out for everyone as a gift, or the combeni food I bought at the station, or the green tea in the hotel room I drank this morning. Perhaps I'd remember the little girl in the front row that wore white tights and black shoes, reminding me of my own excursions to the symphony and the uncomfortable squeak of rubbing patent leather shoes, and the itch of thick stockings. Although I never presented flowers to the maestro at the end of the concert.
I would also remember that today I was bequeathed with the nickname, "Cool, cool, cool sensei," by some of the Japanese members for an odd idiosyncrasy of mine to say, "cool, cool, cool," in rapid succession to mean, "alright/that's cool/sounds good." And "sensei" because I taught them such a thing.
But I likely would not remember where I've been. The ground moves so quickly and tomorrow even more so. So tonight, I will add a memory of a hot bath, and happy hotel room on the 11th foor.